


flood of blood to the heart

by thistidalwave



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Niall, Zayn, and Liam work at a petrol station where Harry and Louis are regular customers. Feelings ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flood of blood to the heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [words_unravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/gifts).



> a v long time ago (i.e. like before Christmas) Shai requested Harry/Niall/Zayn Clerks AU. this request spoke to me. then it exploded because these boys have a lot of feelings. i still have no idea. hope you like it, Shai. thanks for putting up with my slightly cryptic texts. xx
> 
> beta'd/Britpicked by the lovely Isi. <33 i blame LA almost entirely for the original outline, and i couldn't have done it without Calley & Maggie prodding and helping me along. i would say thank you to Becca, but her diagrams are useless for anything but lols.

Zayn lets out a loud moan, head knocking back against the shelves in the supply closet, and Niall pulls his mouth off Zayn’s dick to hiss, “Shut up, you fuck, someone’s going to hear you,” before going right back to sucking him, tongue flicking across the tip like he knows Zayn likes. 

Zayn is really not sure how the fuck Niall expects him to _shut up_ when he’s getting spectacular head, but he does his best, shoving his fist into his mouth and biting down on the side of it as a precaution. 

Niall looks up at him and hums approvingly when he sees that, and Zayn’s toes curl in his shoes, his eyes rolling upward as he tries not to make Niall gag. Niall does it again, though, grabbing at Zayn’s hip with the hand that’s not on his own dick and redoubling his efforts, and _oh_ , he’s in one of _those_ moods. Zayn can work with that.

_Working with that_ basically means that he tangles his fingers into the hair at the nape of Niall’s neck and holds him there until his jaw goes lax so that Zayn can fuck into his mouth until he’s coming down Niall’s throat. Niall swallows and pulls off, getting up and bouncing a couple times on the balls of his feet.

“Thought you were never going to fucking come,” Niall says. His face is flushed pink, and his lower lip is swollen and red and fascinating in Zayn’s post-orgasm haze. “That kills my knee something fierce, mate.”

“Alright, mate?” Zayn asks. 

“If you promise to let me fuck you during our lunch break, I’m golden,” Niall says. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “So fuckin’ cheeky,” he says. “We’ll see.”

It’s as good as yes, really, and Niall knows it.

-

When Zayn gets back from his supposed smoking break, it’s to Liam sitting on a stool behind the till of the petrol station, flipping through a magazine. He looks up at Zayn, expression entirely unimpressed. 

“How was your half-nine blowjob?” he asks. Zayn leans back against the counter, propped up on his elbows, and puts on a scandalised face. Liam rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not stupid, I know what you were doing.”

“Did you want an invitation?” Zayn drawls. He watches with satisfaction as Liam’s cheeks colour a bit and he doesn’t respond, looking back down at his magazine. 

Zayn straightens up and walks past Liam to where there’s a tiny, grimy window that gives him a perfect view of where Niall is sitting leaned against a petrol pump, legs outstretched in front of him. He’s got the sleeves of his dark blue overalls tied around his waist and he’s only wearing a white vest, his arms crossed. Zayn is taking a good long moment to admire his arm muscles when Niall gets to his feet suddenly and waves. In the next moment a familiar silver Audi is pulling up to the pump, and Zayn smirks to himself.

“Hey Liam,” he says, turning to look at him, “that guy you think is fit is here.”

Liam looks up. “Harry or Louis?” he asks, shutting his magazine and standing to come over to the window.

Zayn and Liam watch as a tall bloke unfolds himself from the car, shaking his curly hair out and sliding his sunglasses onto his nose before turning to grin at Niall. 

“He’s going to flirt with your boyfriend again,” Liam says, looking right annoyed. “Why can’t he flirt with the guy who’s actually available?”

“Niall’s not _taken_ ,” Zayn says, because an open relationship means just that. “And don’t sound so bitter. He flirts with you, too. You’re just too busy avoiding looking at him too long to notice.”

Harry laughs, presumably at something Niall said, and Zayn looks at Liam in time to see his expression turn dopey. He snorts. “Hey, when you finally take me up on that invitation to sex with me and Niall, we could invite Harry, too,” he says, punching Liam in the shoulder. “What do you say?”

“Fuck off,” Liam says, stepping away from the window. “He’s coming in.”

“Oooh, does my hair look alright?” Zayn teases, simpering in a mocking imitation of Liam. “Will I knock him off his feet?”

Liam grits his teeth. The bell at the top of the door jingles as Harry steps inside, pausing just inside the door to slide his sunglasses off and tuck them into the neckline of his white t-shirt. Zayn imagines that it would be really dramatic and sexy in slow motion, and then squints at Harry’s chest where he can see the tops of tattoos peeking out. 

Harry, true to his usual form, doesn’t come straight to the counter, but instead makes for the automatic cappuccino machine, brewing himself a large vanilla latte with practiced hands before he turns to walk to the counter.

“Hey,” Harry says, leaning against the counter and sliding his coffee cup onto it. “This and pump two?” 

“Of course,” Liam says, staring steadfastly at the cash register. “That’s £57.75.”

Harry takes his sweet time pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his nearly painted on jeans and rifling through it for the correct notes, and when he does hand them over to Liam, he holds onto them so that Liam has to brush his fingers across Harry’s unless he wants to drop the money, and then Harry turns his hand so that he’s clasping Liam’s fingers. 

“Have I ever told you,” Harry says when Liam makes surprised eye contact, “that I think your hair looks amazing?”

Liam immediately flushes, awkwardly pushing the hand he has free through his mop of curls. “Er, thanks,” he says. “I like yours, too.”

Zayn stares at them as Harry beams at the compliment. He’d thought Harry had been being sarcastic, but he seems entirely sincere. Liam and Harry’s hairstyles are nearly the same. They just fucking _complimented their own hair._ He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a bigger fail before noon in his life. He kind of wants to rewind the moment and get Niall in here to watch, because he’s not sure Niall’s going to believe it otherwise. 

“Are those swallows?” he asks Harry to break the heavy silence that is Liam and Harry staring stupidly at each other. Liam seems to wake up and punches buttons on the cash register while Harry glances down at his own chest. 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry answers, tugging one side of the collar of his shirt down so Zayn can see all of one of the birds. It’s quality workmanship, and Zayn says as much. He tactfully doesn’t mention how much he suddenly wants to lick Harry’s collarbone. 

Liam says, “Your change,” before Harry can thank Zayn. 

Harry takes the money and tucks it back into his wallet easily, then picks up his coffee. Zayn thinks he’s going to leave, but he just takes a casual sip of his latte and says, “So, how’s the morning been treating you lads? Niall was telling me how unfair it is he has to sit outside in the sweltering heat while you’ve got the air conditioning in here.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Don’t let him fool you, he doesn’t have to stay out there. He just likes to chat with the people that pass by.”

“It’s boring in here,” Liam adds. “We usually end up doing stupid things to pass the time.”

Harry looks intrigued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Er... ” Liam stammers, looking at Zayn with pleading eyes. 

“Robot zombies,” Zayn says, because it’s the first dumb thing they do that pops into his mind. 

“Robot zombies?” Harry repeats. “Which is... ?”

“It really needs to be played to be appreciated,” Liam says, and that’s how, after a couple conversation tangents and Harry running out to move his car so that it’s not parked next to a pump, Zayn ends up with a box shoved over his head, stumbling down what he’s fairly sure is the crisps aisle, and fuck--he thinks he just knocked the newspaper display over trying to turn the corner. He can hear Niall laughing, which pretty much confirms it. 

“How do you win this game?” he hears Harry ask. 

“Dunno,” Liam responds, and Zayn stops and tugs the box off his head. 

“More the point is to make a huge mess and then have to spend time cleaning it. Gives us something to do,” he tells Harry, scanning the destruction he’s left in his wake. It’s not so bad, just the overturned display and a couple bags of crisps knocked to the floor. “Also, it’s hilarious.”

“I think you win if you get all the way through the aisles without making a mess at all,” Niall says. 

“That’d be boring,” Zayn says. “It’s Liam’s turn.” He passes the box off to Liam and sets about righting the display and putting the crisps back. 

By the time that’s done, Liam’s already got the box on his head and is stumbling around the front part of the station, arms out in front of him. He manages to knock over the tea holder, spilling tea bag packets everywhere, which makes Zayn wince and Harry laugh. 

Liam seems to head straight for Harry, then, and Zayn assumes Harry will move out of the way like any person with common sense would. He is just starting to turn away to go stand over with Niall when Liam stumbles right into Harry. The impact jostles the arm Harry’s using to hold his coffee cup, and he loses his grip on it, effectively nearly dumping the entire thing, still about half full but at least only lukewarm at this point, on himself before it even hits the floor.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

Liam pulls the box off his head, and his eyes widen when he sees Harry. “Shit, I’m really sorry,”

Zayn takes that as his cue to grab Niall’s arm and start tugging him out of the petrol station. “We’re going to take our lunch break early!” he calls over his shoulder, then lowers his voice so only Niall can hear him. “Come on, while he’s distracted, and this way we won’t have to listen to him apologise for the next century.”

“You just want me to fuck you sooner,” Niall says smugly. 

“That, too,” Zayn says. 

\---

“Sorry,” Liam says again. He’s probably said it about a thousand times in past thirty seconds alone, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Do you need me to--fuck, I don’t know, get you a clean shirt or something? I can give you mine, or, um. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Harry is looking at Liam with an amused smile on his face that seems entirely inappropriate for someone who has coffee sticking their shirt to their skin. Liam blinks, sure he’s interpreting Harry’s expression wrong, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. “I’m fine,” Harry says. “It’s too hot for this shirt, anyway.”

Liam nods understandingly, then realises that he did not understand at all when Harry’s next move is to take the shirt _off._

“Um,” he squeaks.

“Have you got, like, kitchen roll?” Harry asks. It takes a minute before Liam can even remember what the hell kitchen roll _is_ , and then he turns and heads for behind the register. He finds he can think a lot clearer when not looking at Harry--this has always been true, but it applies double when Harry is fucking _shirtless._

“I think there’s--here.” He rips a good amount off a roll of kitchen roll he finds under the counter and turns to hand it to Harry, except Harry has actually followed him behind the counter and is standing right behind Liam. “Oh,” Liam says. “Uh.” He makes an aborted movement like he’s going to wipe at Harry’s chest himself and then feels like an idiot and stares resolutely at the floor.

“See something you like?” Harry asks, and Liam looks up to see that he’s smirking. It should be dumb and annoying, but somehow Harry is so charming that it’s not. (Or, more likely, he’s just... really fit.) Liam can’t think of an answer, though, so he just stares at Harry, glancing down at his chest every couple seconds. “I don’t really need that,” Harry adds, taking the kitchen roll out of Liam’s hand and putting it on the counter. He takes a step closer to Liam, which Liam mirrors unconsciously, and then he realises what Harry’s going for, and well, fuck if Liam’s going to let himself be backed into a corner.

Liam steps forward to meet Harry and kisses him. It’s almost tentative, but when Harry immediately deepens it Liam gives back as good as he gets, sucking at Harry’s bottom lip and running his hands up Harry’s torso. Harry shoves him backward, turns it dirty, the air muggy around them, and then Liam is backed into the corner after all, but he’s not really bothered by it when he’s got Harry’s tongue in his mouth. 

Harry fists his hands in the fabric of Liam’s shirt and tugs, pulling Liam slowly down until they’re on the floor. Liam follows easily and pushes Harry back so he’s lying down, immediately crawling over him and connecting their mouths again. This time Liam gets his tongue in Harry’s mouth, and Harry sucks on it a moment before taking advantage of Liam’s distraction to push at him, rolling them over so that Harry is sat straddling Liam’s hips. He smirks down at him, and Liam feels hot all over, an inescapable needy tingle underneath his skin as Harry starts unbuttoning Liam’s shirt. He grabs Harry’s wrist and pulls him down so he can kiss him again because he misses it already. Harry hums appreciatively into Liam’s mouth, supporting himself with his hands on either side of Liam’s head.

Liam flails his hands a bit in indecision about what to do with them and eventually rests them on the bare skin of Harry’s back. His skin is hot, almost burning underneath Liam’s palms, and he slides them from Harry’s shoulder blades to his tailbone, letting Harry bite at his upper lip as he does so.

It’s hot and tinged with desperation at the edges, and Liam has had fantasies that went a lot like this. He slides his hands to Harry’s arse, kisses him like he’s got something to prove because he does. He’s proving himself to the pout of Harry’s lower lip and the glint in his eyes whenever Liam hands his change back, and he’s cherishing every moment of this, storing it away to keep forever in case he never gets to have it again, and--

“Hey, can I get some service here?” a voice says from somewhere above them, on the other side of the counter. 

They both freeze, and Liam stares wide eyed up at Harry. “Shit,” he stage whispers. “Shit, get off, get off.” 

Harry rolls off and Liam scrambles to his feet, tugging at his shirt as he does so. “Hello,” he says when he’s standing, and when he properly looks at the person waiting there he immediately wants to melt into the floor and die. 

“Hey,” Louis says, one judgemental eyebrow raised as he surveys Liam’s unbuttoned shirt and flushed skin, his lips bruised red and hair a mess. 

Liam attempts to pretend nothing is amiss despite knowing he looks thoroughly ravaged, grabbing the items Louis has placed on the counter and scanning them. “Sorry for the wait, just let me ring this stuff up, yeah?”

“Sure, mate, no problem,” Louis says, and then pauses a moment while Liam scans a bottle of pop before adding, “You fucking someone back there? Isn’t it a bit dirty?”

Liam chokes on his own spit and splutters, trying to find an answer. If his cheeks were flushed before, he thinks regretfully, his whole face is probably burning bright red now. 

“Yeah, we’re having very dirty sex,” Harry says from behind Liam. He walks up to lean onto the counter next to Liam, arms folded on top of the glass in front of him. “Thanks for asking.” He shoots Louis an overly dramatic wink, and Louis looks amused. 

Harry reaches forward and picks up the last item before Liam can get to it, raising an eyebrow and flashing the small box at Louis. “Condoms?” he asks. 

Louis shrugs. “Man’s got needs,” he says. He tilts his head a bit, looking Harry up and down, and then his expression turns to one of abrupt recognition. “Hey, you’re--”

“--that guy you fucked in the toilets at work? Yeah,” Harry finishes, looking very self-satisfied.

“That was a good break,” Louis says, grinning at Harry.

Liam nearly passes out on the spot, because of course his mind very helpfully supplies a very graphic image of that. The two regular customers he’s been nursing crushes on for ages have _fucked each other._ Liam is no longer sure if he hasn’t been transported to some alternate dimension where his every fantasy is real life.

“I think we’ve embarrassed poor Liam,” says Louis, but he doesn’t look at all sorry about it--rather pleased, actually. 

“Not embarrassed,” Liam mumbles, taking the box of condoms from Harry and scanning it. “S’just a small world. Where do you work, Louis?”

“At a bar on the pier,” Louis says. “Getting my bum squeezed and things, it’s good fun.”

“Huh,” Liam says. “You want a bag for this stuff?” 

Louis nods and holds up his card. Liam punches a few buttons on the till and gestures at the machine before getting a bag to put Louis’ things in. 

“It’s cool that we all seem to know each other,” Louis says. “We should go out sometime.”

“Oooh, yes,” Harry agrees immediately. “What about dinner tonight? Niall and Zayn could come as well.”

“I’d be up for that,” Louis says, nodding. Liam rips his receipt off the cash register and hands it over to Louis with his bag. “What time are you lot off, Liam?”

“Half five,” Liam says. “We could go for half seven or something?”

Louis nods, pulling out his mobile. “Here, give me your number and I’ll text you to let you know.”

Liam rattles off his number for Louis to tap into his phone, and then Louis is smiling and backing away from the counter. “So, Harry,” he says, “what are you doing right now?” Harry shrugs in response, and Louis grins, bending down to pick something up off the floor and waving it at them. “Because I’ve got your shirt here, and I don’t really fancy giving it back without something in return.”

Liam looks back and forth between them as Harry smiles slowly and Louis continues to smirk. “Could fuck me in the back of my car,” Harry suggests, and Louis’ grin widens. 

“I’m partial to that,” he says.

Liam makes an involuntary noise of protest, and Harry pats him on the shoulder before rethinking it and leaning in to kiss him. “Sorry you’ve got to work,” he says when he pulls away.

“I’m not jealous,” Liam lies. “You go have fun; I’ll just be here.”

“Bye, Liam,” Louis sing songs, waving. “See you later.”

Liam watches them leave, Harry trying to take his shirt from Louis and Louis laughing and holding it away from him as they walk through the door, and then sighs, finding the magazine he’d been reading earlier and sitting down on his stool to go back to it.

Then he realises that his shirt is still half unbuttoned and his hair is still askew and sighs again. 

\---

There’s smoke curling up from between the pink of Zayn’s lips as he exhales, and it makes Niall want to lean in and kiss him, so he does. Zayn kisses back and nips playfully at Niall’s lip before pulling back to grin at Niall, pupils blown wide.

“‘Vas happenin’?” Zayn asks, words slurring together a little, and Niall shrugs.

“I’m a bit high,” he says. 

Zayn holds out the last of the spliff with an eyebrow quirked in question. Niall shakes his head, then rethinks and says, “Shotgun it.”

Zayn nods approvingly and takes a hit, leaning in toward Niall. Niall meets him halfway and lets their lips press against each other, inhales while Zayn exhales and then stays there a moment, feeling his lungs full of smoke and his heart light in his chest before he pulls back and breathes out again. 

Niall leans lazily against the counter, watching as Zayn flicks the roach into the bin and sets to work rolling another spliff. He checks the clock on the wall--it’s just gone six. Liam had left half an hour ago, saying he was going to change before they went out to dinner, and Harry had texted Liam to say he’d come and get Niall and Zayn from work after they closed up, maybe around half six if they wanted to hang around. 

Of course, Niall and Zayn had taken that as the perfect excuse to smoke up after a long day of sitting around and being bored, because they are nothing if not opportunists. 

Zayn’s hands are practiced and his jaw is set the way he does when he’s concentrating, and Niall wants to kiss him again. He wants to kiss him all the time, really, which is alright since they are dating, and Niall is allowed to kiss him.

“I love you,” Niall tells Zayn, because he likes the way the words always taste sharp and happy in his mouth.

Zayn looks up at him and smiles, that crooked one that crinkles his eyes. “Love you, too,” he says, stepping over so that he’s in front of Niall, soft and warm and crowding into his space to give him a hug, face pressed into Niall’s neck. Niall hugs back, and Zayn bends his head down to bite gently at the skin just above Niall’s collarbone. Niall giggles and just barely pushes at his shoulders. Zayn sways back a bit and then settles in against Niall again. 

They stay like that for awhile, spliff mostly forgotten on the counter next to them. Zayn ends up resting his cheek against Niall’s shoulder after Niall teasingly pokes him in the cheekbone and gets batted away for his troubles, which means Niall is involuntarily breathing in Zayn’s hair. He smells like smoke and shampoo, and it’s an extremely heady mix when Niall’s already high. He feels strangely grounded for how light his limbs feel, and he suspects it has to do with the steady weight of Zayn leaning against him. 

More time must pass than Niall fully registers, because the next thing he knows other than Zayn is the sound of someone knocking on the glass of the gas station door. 

“Must be Harry,” Zayn mumbles, and it takes a moment, but when that sinks in Niall pushes Zayn away abruptly. He stumbles backward, surprised, and Niall takes a moment to press an apology into his lips before hurrying around to unlock the door and let Harry in.

“Hi!” Niall says, hitting Harry on the shoulder in greeting. He’s always happy to see Harry, and part of that is probably because he always wants to kiss Harry, which is a problem because they’re not dating and Niall isn’t sure Harry would want Niall to kiss him. 

“Hey,” Harry says. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Interrupting?” Niall parrots. “No, not interrupting anything.”

Harry raises a skeptical eyebrow, a smirk hidden just behind his eyes. “It smells like weed,” he says.

“Weed and cuddles,” Zayn says. He waves the rolled up spliff in Harry’s general direction. “You want some?”

“Of the weed or the cuddles?” 

“Both,” Niall is quick to say. “Two for one deal.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay.”

Zayn raises knowing eyebrows at Niall, and Niall tilts his head questioningly. Zayn shrugs minutely and lights the spliff, offering it to Harry when he’s wandered around to the other side of the counter, nonchalant, like he belongs there. 

Harry takes a long hit and takes his time before exhaling. It’s clear this isn’t his first ball game, and, if Niall’s perfectly honest, he looks hot doing it, especially in the white shirt he’s wearing, the top few buttons undone so the length of his throat is exposed. Harry passes the spliff off to Niall and keeps his eyes on him while he takes a drag, making Niall feel oddly self-conscious, like Harry’s judging him or something. 

Niall hands the spliff to Zayn and sits down, tugging at Harry’s trousers to get him to join him on the floor. Zayn sits as well, crossing his legs and leaning back against the wall. 

The spliff makes the rounds a couple more times before Niall’s got it again and an idea occurs to him. 

“Hey, Harry,” he says.

Harry looks up from where he’s been staring into the middle distance--or maybe at Zayn, Niall can’t tell--and hums an acknowledgement. 

“Gonna try something.” Niall takes a hit and leans toward Harry, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling Harry in to meet him. Harry’s eyes track Niall’s movement, half lidded, and he seems to get what Niall is doing, opens his mouth so Niall can breathe smoke into it. Their lips are perilously close together, and Niall pulls away abruptly. He looks nervously at the floor, then over at Zayn, who makes suggestive faces at him. Niall resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him. 

“Gimme that,” Harry says, gesturing to the spliff. Niall hands it over, and maybe he shouldn’t be surprised when Harry mimicks what Niall just did by grabbing behind his neck and hauling him in, but he kind of is. Niall lets him, though, breathes in the smoke, and he’s barely pulled away to exhale when Harry is tugging him back in and actually pressing their lips together this time, sweeping his tongue along Niall’s lower lip before sucking on it. Niall makes a high pitched noise into it, and Harry pulls away.

“Is this okay? I, uh--” Harry glances over at Zayn. 

Zayn waves a hand. “Please don’t stop on my account,” he says. “S’hot. Hand the spliff over, though.”

“Last hit,” Harry says, leaning over to give it to him and letting his hand fall from Niall’s neck.

“Hey, come back here and kiss me more,” Niall blurts out, and Harry turns to look at him, grinning slightly incredulously. 

“Well, okay,” he says, and he does just that, leaning in to press their lips together briefly. “How about those cuddles?” he asks, crawling right into Niall’s lap and nuzzling his face into Niall’s neck. 

“Should get Zayn in on them,” Niall says, nudging Harry’s face up so that he can kiss him again. It’s a bit surreal, the feel of Harry’s lips against his when he’s been telling himself this probably isn’t ever going to happen, and when Harry makes a surprised little noise and pulls away the slightest bit, Niall opens his eyes to see that Zayn has got his mouth on the curve of Harry’s jaw, and that’s even more surreal.

Niall kisses Harry again, slides his hands to the back of his thighs where they’re spread over Niall’s lap, and he can feel Zayn’s hands in between them, slowly working their way upward--he thinks that Zayn must be undoing the buttons of Harry’s shirt. 

Harry giggles and breaks away from Niall when Zayn starts tugging at his shirt to pull it off. “This is a bit farther than I thought you meant when you said cuddles,” he says. 

“Well, Liam had a go at checking you out shirtless,” Zayn says. “We wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

“He told you about that?” Harry asks. He doesn’t seem too terribly surprised, though, too chilled out to look anything but.

“We get bored,” Niall tells him. “You should kiss Zayn,” he adds, because he’s been thinking about it and if all his fantasies are going to come true, that should definitely be included.

Harry smiles again, soft and curling at the edges, and turns his head to capture Zayn’s lips with his own. It’s just as hot as Niall imagined it--Zayn’s eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones when he closes his eyes, and Niall can tell that Harry is deliberately making a show of it when he gets his tongue in Zayn’s mouth.

Niall is so caught up in watching them kiss that Harry’s hand palming Niall’s dick through his trousers blindsides him, and he’s abruptly aware of just how hard he is, trying to move into Harry’s hand to get more pressure where he needs it. 

“I want to blow you,” Zayn murmurs, his lips brushing against Harry’s cheek as he does so, and both Harry’s and Niall’s breath catch at the same time. 

“Yeah?” Harry murmurs back, voice slow and rough. “I want Niall to fuck me.”

Niall thinks his heart might beat right out of his chest. Zayn’s grinning lazily at Harry now. “I’d like to see that,” he says.

“Can’t do that in this position,” Niall says, trying to hold himself together enough to be coherent.

“Mmmm,” Harry agrees. “Standing?”

Niall nods, swallowing in an attempt to stop his throat from being so dry. Zayn’s the first to move--because he has to be, the way they’re all tangled up in each other on the floor--and he helps both Harry and Niall to their feet before guiding them carefully over to the wall, pushing Niall against it and Harry up against Niall. 

“This’ll do,” he says, smirking, and licks his way across one of Harry’s collarbones and then down to his swallow tattoos, outlining the shape of one with his tongue before moving to softly bite at Harry’s nipple. Harry makes a keening noise and jerks his hips, and Niall grabs at them, curls his fingers into the skin there and holds Harry still against him. 

Zayn drops to his knees then, and Harry makes a pleased noise that’s so cute Niall has to kiss him on the cheek for it. 

“Don’t tease,” Harry says, and Zayn grins up at him. 

“Might as well,” he says, thumbing across ink on Harry’s hip before leaning in to bite at the curve of his tummy next to his hip, right over the tattoo. He undoes the fly of Harry’s trousers at the same time, and then tugs his pants and trousers down, exposing Harry’s cock and taking it in hand. When he pulls away from Harry’s hip, Niall can see a dark spot where his mouth was. 

“Y’got a condom?” Zayn asks Harry, and Harry nods quickly.

“Pocket of my trousers,” he says. 

Niall watches as Zayn digs out the condom and makes quick work of ripping open the packet and rolling it onto Harry’s dick before licking up over the latex and swallowing Harry down, making him groan and throw his head back against Niall’s shoulder. Niall puts his hand up automatically and slides it into Harry’s hair, rubbing at his temple like he’s trying to comfort him. 

“Aren’t you-- aren’t... y’supposed to be doing something?” Harry asks, his words coming out in breathy pants, and _oh,_ right. 

Niall pulls his hand out of Harry’s hair and drags the tips of his fingers down the length of his back just to feel him shiver the tiniest bit before he reaches his arse. He figures, somewhere in the still coherent part of his brain, that he’s probably going to need to take it really slow, get his fingers wet with spit or maybe even drag himself away for a moment to get lube, but when he carefully tries a finger, it slips in fairly easily and Harry groans at it.

“C’mon, more,” he demands, and then Zayn does something that makes him groan again, jerking his hips forward the slightest bit. 

“You’re practically ready already,” Niall murmurs, adding a second finger and scissoring them, fucking into Harry with them for a moment before he’s sure he can easily add a third.

“Yeah,” Harry pants, “from Louis earlier.” Niall immediately pictures it, of course, decides he likes the idea of Louis, with the scruffy brown hair and the arse Niall could sing love songs to, taking Harry apart and preparing him, even unknowingly, for Niall to do the same later. 

“Please just-- can you-- fuck me, please,” Harry begs.

“Yeah, babe, just hold on,” Niall says soothingly. “I need--”

“There’s-- there should be another... one,” Harry says, and Zayn pulls off his dick with a loud pop that makes Niall snort softly and Harry slump forward a bit, breathing heavily. 

Niall shoves his trousers and pants down and takes the condom Zayn offers him, ripping the foil open with his teeth and rolling it on quickly. He suddenly feels like he needs to be in Harry just as much as he thinks Harry wants him to be, burning need flaming in the edges of his skin, and he wraps an arm around Harry’s torso, palm pressed over his chest, and angles him just how he needs to be able to slowly press into him. 

Harry is having none of it, though, and he pushes back, burying Niall fully in him almost before he’s ready, and Niall’s vision turns into a blur of the feel of Harry around him multiplied tenfold, and he’s barely even aware of the way he whimpers and digs his teeth into the skin of Harry’s shoulder. 

When the sensation has passed enough for Niall to register anything at all other than the way Harry is slowly fucking himself back on Niall’s cock, he realises that he’s got Zayn’s hand in his, their fingers laced together and skin pale white where they’re gripping on to each other too hard. 

He can see Zayn just over Harry’s shoulder, too, Harry’s dick still in his mouth, jaw slack, and Niall watches in quiet fascination as he changes the rhythm of his thrusts into Harry and, consequently, Harry into Zayn’s mouth. Harry is nearly unresponsive but for the steady stream of noises he’s making, eyes closed and mouth slack, and Niall thinks he might be holding him up at this point. 

Niall pulls nearly all the way out of Harry and thrusts back in, and Harry groans, going even more limp than before as he comes, and Niall watches as Zayn swallows it all, shuddering and closing his eyes when Zayn goes to wipe a stray bit off his face and licks it off his fingers. Niall presses his cheek to the clammy skin at Harry’s back and comes, holding on to Zayn’s hand and digging the pads of his fingers into Harry’s chest.

They slide down the wall so they’re sitting and stay slumped like that long enough for Niall to start collecting his wits and wonder vaguely if Zayn managed to come or if someone’s going to need to help him out with that before Harry shifts away a bit.

“What time is it?” Niall hears Harry ask, and then there’s the sound of someone moving around, probably so they can get a good look at the clock. 

“We’re gonna be late,” Zayn says instead of answering properly. His voice is slow and gravelly. He’s slumped against the shelves under the counter, Niall sees when he finally opens his eyes, and oh, good, he had come.

Harry shrugs. “We’ve got to pick them up, anyway.”

“Need to go change,” Niall adds, because he’s sure he and Zayn in particular can’t wear these particular clothes to dinner out. 

“Maybe we should move, then,” Zayn says, “but not for at least another minute.”

Niall crawls over to him and pecks him on the forehead before curling into his side and using his chest as a pillow. “Sleepy bastard,” he says. “Gonna have to wake up.”

“A minute,” Zayn repeats, stifling what Niall can tell is the beginning of a yawn. 

“Maybe,” Niall allows. “Harry’ll keep us in line, right?”

Harry nods lazily and shrugs again. “We’re not late if we’re the majority,” he says.

“Damn straight,” Niall agrees, and he ends up having to stifle a yawn of his own. Fucking contagious little shits, he thinks, and tries very hard not to fall asleep.

\---

Louis flips his mobile over and over in his hands and sighs restlessly. He’s sitting on the steps outside of his block of flats, dragging his shoe through the bit of gravel on the pavement and waiting for the rest of the boys to come pick him up. 

He’d been feeling pretty good about this whole dinner thing--he’s excited to get to know Harry better, and hanging out with the other three as well is sure to be a laugh if his occasional chats with them at the petrol station are any indication--but the longer he spends sitting here, the more that edge of nervousness creeps up on him. Louis generally isn’t one to really care what others think of him, but occasionally it feels like it matters even when he thinks it shouldn’t. 

He’s just about to unlock his phone and read the text Harry had sent him saying they’d be there in five for possibly the hundredth time when he spots Harry’s car coming up the street. He stands and makes his way to the curb to meet it.

The back door of the car closest to Louis swings open and Niall leans out. “Get in, loser,” he says. “We’re going to get food, fuck yeah.”

Louis laughs and obeys, squishing in next to Niall and Liam and pulling the door shut behind him. Zayn’s riding shotgun and looking pretty proud about it, nodding a hello to Louis. Louis can feel his nervousness dissipating, possibly being poked right out of him by Niall’s fingers in his side. He retaliates by giving Niall a wet willy and laughing when Niall squawks indignantly and pushes him away. 

“Hey,” Liam protests at the way Niall is shifting away from Louis and into him, and he pushes Niall back toward Louis, who pushes him back again.

“Settle down back there, jesus,” Harry says. “There’s plenty of Niall to go around.”

“Yeah,” Niall says, glaring between Liam and Louis. “You can share me.”

“I think we were actually trying to get rid of you, mate,” Louis says, sharing a look with Liam, who has an expression somewhere between quiet amusement and confusion. 

Niall pouts, going so far as to properly cross his arms and stick out his lower lip, and Liam pats Niall comfortingly on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to get rid of you, Nialler,” he says, and he sounds so earnest about it that Louis kind of wants to die. 

Niall laughs a little and leans over and pecks Liam on the lips, which, whoa, Louis actually wasn’t expecting that. Neither was Liam, if the way his cheeks immediately flush pink is any indication. Liam looks over and catches Louis’ eye, and Louis raises his eyebrows suggestively to see if it makes Liam blush harder. He grins when it does. 

“I know, Leemo,” Niall is saying. “You would never be so cruel.”

“Liam doesn’t even hurt insects,” Zayn says from the front, turning to look back at them, and Louis is hit with the sudden awareness that he is in a car with four very attractive lads, all of which he would more than willingly shag--not to mention one that he already has. 

Of course, that line of thought leads straight to watching them shag each other and then to shagging them all at the same time, and Louis has to force himself to stick a wall up in his mind before it gets really awkward really quickly. 

Still though, the stray thought of _maybe if everything goes well tonight..._ slips past before he can shove it back.

Louis has lost the thread of the conversation, but he thinks Liam is protesting Zayn’s statement, which somehow involves Batman and Niall giggling a lot, and then Harry is interrupting to tell them they’ve arrived at the restaurant they agreed upon earlier that day. 

“Foooood!” Niall says loudly, looking like he’s about to bounce right out of the car, except for how he’s in the middle. He frowns at Louis the slightest bit when he realises this, and Louis swears he’s never moved faster to get out of a car in his life. The beam he gets out of Niall for it is entirely worth almost tripping over his heels, though. 

When they all get into the restaurant they’re told it’ll be about a twenty minute wait, so they all squish onto the smaller of the two padded benches by the entrance. Louis is between Zayn and Harry, and he entertains himself by blowing on the back of Zayn’s neck when he’s turned talking to Liam and then pretending to be engrossed in conversation with Harry when Zayn looks around. He’s pretty sure Zayn’s got him figured out, but it doesn’t stop it from being hilarious. 

Harry loops his ankle around Louis’ within two minutes of them sitting down, and Louis is not bothered in the slightest. Then Harry starts pointing out random people passing by and making up dumb stories about them, and Louis, well, he’s not bothered by that, either, because the glint of amusement in Harry’s eyes is twice as gratifying as his actual stories. 

Somewhere around the fifteen minute mark Niall goes flailing off the edge of the bench, landing hard on his arse and immediately rolling over to curl up on the floor. They go silent, disjointed conversations forgotten, and stare at him. Louis thinks for a second the shaking of Niall’s shoulders is him crying, but cottons on in the next moment that he’s definitely just laughing.

“Harry pushed me!” Niall declares when he’s uncurled himself, still sitting on the floor and glaring up at them. 

“Harry’s on the other end of the bench from you,” Zayn says. 

“He did,” Niall insists.

Louis glances at Harry. He’s grinning, and then he says, “I did. With my secret ninja skills.”

Niall points at him. “He admits it!”

“Um, we have a table ready for you?” a slight brunette says. She blinks down at Niall. “Party of five?”

“That’s us,” Liam says, the first to get to his feet. “Sorry about him,” he adds, gesturing to Niall.

“It’s fine,” the girl says. “Will you be needing any child menus?” She looks pointedly at Niall, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

They all burst into uproarious laughter, at which the waitress looks gratified. Niall gets to his feet, brushing off the seat of his trousers. “Can I get some crayons, miss?” he asks, eyes wide. 

“Absolutely not,” she tells him. “Table’s this way,” she says to all the boys, gesturing with the stack of menus she’s picked up. 

They follow her to a corner booth on the far side of the restaurant, a round table with two chairs and a single curving bench along the back. Niall, Liam, and Zayn pile in first, Niall ending up between Liam and Zayn, leaving Louis and Harry to ignore the chairs and sit down on the edges, Louis next to Liam and Harry next to Zayn. The hostess puts down their menus and flashes them all a smile. “Your waitress will be right with you. Have a great meal.”

“Thanks, Mattie,” Liam says, smiling at her. Louis snorts, because of course Liam is the kind of person who reads people’s nametags. 

“What?” Liam asks, looking at Louis quizzically. 

“You read nametags,” Louis says. 

“Yeah,” Liam says slowly, “and so do you. You read mine.”

Louis shrugs. “That’s because you’re fit,” he says, and hooks his foot around Liam’s ankle like Harry had been doing to him in the foyer, casually opening his menu as he does so. He glances up at Liam after a moment. He looks unperturbed, and he doesn’t move his leg away. Louis is counting it as a win. 

“We’ve been sitting down three seconds and Louis is already putting the moves on Liam,” Niall observes. “I like you, Louis.”

Louis grins. “I like you, too, Niall.”

The mutual staring and grinning across the table is interrupted by the arrival of their waitress. “Hi,” she says. “I’m Nicki, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. Do you know what you would like to drink?” 

They all order various alcoholic beverages, even Harry, which makes Louis eye him across the table when Nicki has gone. “You’ve got to drive,” he says.

Harry shrugs. “We’ll be here awhile yet,” he says. He looks like he’s about to add something, but then he doesn’t. Louis suspects he might have some sort of secret plan--he seems like the type to secretly plan things. 

“So,” Zayn says, “what’s everyone going to order?” 

The next minutes are full of them arguing over what the best things to order are--none of them can agree on a starter, so they end up deciding to get Nicki to pick out of five options for them. (Nicki sides with Harry on the nachos and Harry looks smug about it.) Then they all seem to decide that none of the other boys are allowed to make a decision about what to eat by themselves and start offering opinions and getting into mild arguments about the relative usefulness of parsley and how much cheese is too much cheese. (The opinions on parsley are varied, but they all immediately agree that there is no such thing as too much cheese, so then that’s not actually an argument at all.)

Eventually, though, they’ve placed their orders and handed their menus over to Nicki and a lull in the conversation settles around them. It’s not horribly awkward right away; Liam’s shifted closer to Louis sometime during the food debate so that their legs are pressed up against each other, and everyone is just quietly sipping at their drinks, but Louis can feel it heading toward awkward pretty quickly. 

“Let’s get to know each other,” Louis suggests, for lack of anything better to say.

Harry perks up at that. “Yeah, let’s. So, lads, have you ever gone streaking?”

Louis snorts. “I meant, like, what do these boys do when they’re not working at the petrol station? My eyes can barely handle seeing them wearing anything but overalls, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Well, that’s less fun,” Harry says. “I want to know the answer to my question.”

“We can just answer both,” Zayn says. “Louis, you go first.”

“Alright,” Louis says, straightening up and folding his hands in front of him on the table like he’s about to make an important speech. Harry smirks at him from across the table. “My name’s Louis Tomlinson, and I’m addicted to Maltesers.”

“Hi, Louis,” Liam and Harry chorus, and Niall snorts. Zayn looks unimpressed.

Louis grins. “In all seriousness, I’m pretty boring. I went to uni in London and I’ve been out for two years now, spent the last year or so in Brighton because I wanted to be by the sea. That’s also why I work at the bar on the pier.”

“But have you gone streaking?” Niall prompts. 

“I have,” Louis says. “I was pretty drunk at the time.”

“See, not boring at all, then,” Niall says. 

“Maybe not,” Louis allows. 

“What did you study at uni?” Zayn asks.

Louis shrugs and answers “Drama,” before declaring it Liam’s turn before anyone can ask him anymore questions. This night is definitely about fun and flirting, not Louis’ depressing life story where he’s not even good enough for a Go Compare advert. 

“Um,” Liam starts, looking hesitant, “I’m starting my second year of uni, studying music production. I met Niall in one of my classes, and he dragged me along to an interview at the petrol station with him. I’m still confused about that, actually.”

“You looked like a lost puppy,” Niall says. “I’ve always wanted a puppy.”

Liam rolls his eyes, giving Louis the impression he’s heard that one before. 

“Been streaking?” Harry asks.

Liam looks uncomfortable. “No.”

Niall giggles, and Zayn coughs out a faux hidden, “Liar.” Liam sighs. 

“Okay, there’s a story there,” Louis says. 

“There isn’t a story,” Liam protests. “Don’t listen to these idiots.”

“There’s definitely a story,” Harry says. “Pinch him, Louis.”

Louis wastes no time in reaching over and pinching Liam’s nipple. Liam squeaks the slightest bit and bats Louis’ hand away. “There’s more where that came from if you don’t tell us,” Louis warns, and when Liam doesn’t say anything, reaches to do it again. Liam grabs his hand, then the other one when he reaches with that. 

“Niall and Zayn apparently convinced me to do it once,” Liam says, keeping hold of Louis’ hands. “It was right after my kidney had sorted itself out so I could drink, and I was totally pissed and probably thought everything they said was the greatest idea ever. I don’t really remember.”

“It was hysterical,” Niall says. 

“For you,” Liam mutters, but he doesn’t really seem angry about it. “You tell us about yourself now.”

“I’m also going into my second year, but I’m studying sound arts,” Niall says. “I wanted a job at the petrol station because Zayn is hot.”

“Aw,” Zayn deadpans. “Thanks, babe.” 

“Zayn’s about to start his final year. He studies English because he’s not just a pretty face. He’s also a giant nerd,” Niall says. 

“Shut up,” Zayn says. 

“Love you,” Niall says, leaning over and nuzzling the side of Zayn’s neck. Zayn rolls his eyes and wraps the hand that’s not holding his drink around Niall’s shoulders. 

“Love you, too.”

“How did you two actually get together?” Harry asks. He’s idly spinning the cocktail stick that came with his drink around with his finger, propping his face up with his other hand, and Louis has to force himself to look away from his hands.

“This is a good story,” Liam says. “So Niall was in the library, and--”

“It’s not _your_ story,” Zayn interrupts. “I was going to meet Niall to study. This was, like, in December, and I’d fancied him for a while.”

“Apparently I look really fit in the library,” Niall says, “because Zayn came up to me and said something about wanting to kiss me. I told him to go away because I was busy before I realised who he was and what he’d just said.”

“And then he chased me halfway across the room and tackled me by the computers.”

“We were banned for a month,” Niall says gleefully. “It was so worth it.”

“Aw,” Louis says, “that’s sickeningly adorable.”

“I always think that they should be way more into commitment with rings and shit,” Liam says. “They definitely act like it. Instead they keep telling me they’re in an open relationship.”

“Hey, we don’t let true love stand in the way of keeping it casual,” Niall says, and then he winks in Harry’s direction. Harry, when Louis looks over, is smirking, and Louis really wants to know what that’s about. 

“You moved in together,” Liam mutters.

“We invited you to live with us and you said no,” Zayn points out. 

“Yeah, because--” Liam falters.

“We invited you to the sex, too,” Niall adds, taking a drink of his pint. “So you can’t complain about that.”

Liam makes a frustrated noise, and Louis decides to take pity on him. “Harry,” he says, “your turn.”

“Niall and Zayn never told us if they’ve been streaking,” Harry protests.

“I haven’t,” Niall says. “Zayn?”

Zayn shakes his head. Harry looks perturbed. “We’ll fix that someday,” Harry vows, and Louis likes the automatic assumption that they’re all going to keep hanging out. 

Nicki shows up with nachos, then, putting them down in the middle of the table, and by the time she’s telling them to enjoy, Niall’s already got his mouth full. Louis thinks that pretty much sums up his impression of Niall so far. 

Harry picks a nacho off the plate and eats it way more slowly than Louis thinks is entirely necessary, then takes a sip of his cocktail before clearing his throat. “I’m going to be starting my first year of uni in September, studying art history. I took a gap year to go travelling and there were a lot of museums that were inspiring or some shit.”

“That’s posh,” Liam says. Louis snorts. Of course Harry is posh, if his car didn’t say that, his clothes definitely would--and had, the first time Harry had picked up Louis at the bar. Louis is a sucker for a charming, rich, pretty lad. 

Harry shrugs. “I also don’t have a job because my parents have a lot of money and I’m lazy.”

“Fair,” Niall says around yet another nacho, and holds out a fist for Harry to bump, which Harry does.

“Been streaking?” Zayn asks Harry. 

“Duh,” Harry says, reaching for more nachos. 

From there the conversation continues easily, whatever small slivers of ice there had been between any of them sufficiently broken. They flit easily from topic to topic together, and Nicki regularly returns with new rounds, so that by the time their food has shown up, Louis is well on his way to tipsy. 

He reaches to get the salt and moves his foot away from Liam’s for the first time all night, only to end up bumping it against someone else’s. He’s about to move it away, but then the foot bumps his a couple times, and he ends up well and truly playing footsies with whoever it is. He starts putting salt on his food, looking surreptitiously around the table and catching Zayn’s eye. He raises an eyebrow and the foot knocks against his harder. Yep, definitely Zayn, then. He flashes Zayn a grin and goes back to eating his food. 

Next to him, Niall has his leg draped over half of Liam’s lap and has convinced him that it’s a totally good idea to use his spaghetti to reenact Lady and the Tramp. Louis isn’t sure he caught the whole conversation, but he thinks Harry might have suggested it. 

“I’m not sticking my nose on a meatball,” Niall says, “but here.” He offers Liam the other end of a piece of spaghetti, and Liam takes it warily. Niall sticks his end in his mouth and waggles his eyebrows at Liam, who sighs and does the same. 

They do successfully manage to meet, though Louis thinks Niall might have done all the work on that one, and Harry whoops and claps, declaring it awesome. 

They finish their food and get more drunk, and somehow they end up more squished together in the booth. Louis has his hand on Liam's leg, and he isn't sure when that happened, but whatever, it's nice. Zayn and Harry keep looking at each other and grinning stupidly, so Louis is pretty sure something is happening under the table over there, too, which makes him decide it's a great idea to slide his hand further up Liam's leg. Liam glances over at him and smiles, a lazy, lopsided sort of smile, and Louis desperately wants to kiss him.

He leans in a bit--he doesn’t have to go very far, as close together as they’re sitting--and when Liam doesn’t move away at all, Louis just goes for it and kisses him. Liam kisses back, and Louis can hear Niall giggling at them. 

“Get it, Liam,” Niall says, and Louis pulls back, grinning up at Liam, who’s looking at him with pretty much the same expression.

“Hey,” Louis says, “what about me? I’m getting it, too.”

Zayn laughs. “Liam’s had a crush on both you and Harry for _ages._ Of course he would end up kissing both of you the same day.”

“And you said I didn’t have any game,” Liam says, looking smug. It’s a terribly cute look on him. 

“No one said any such thing,” Niall says indignantly, which makes Louis think about how Liam and Niall were in the car and with the spaghetti, and he decides he is extremely fond of them and possibly wants to watch them make out a little. Or a lot. 

Zayn leans over to whisper something to Niall, and Niall nods a bit, and then Zayn bites at Niall’s neck, which Louis doesn’t really think is fair at all. It’s a bit playful, but a lot hot, and Louis isn’t really equipped to deal with it. 

But, like, whatever, because his hand is still on Liam’s leg, and he’d just snogged him, and Louis can be hot with the person sitting next to him, too. 

Which is how Louis ends up with his hand on Liam’s dick under the table, watching in fascination as the skin on the sides of his neck and his cheeks flushes red. 

“What are you doing?” Liam hisses, shifting away a bit and bumping into Niall. 

“Shhh,” Louis says, glancing up and then over, and catching Harry’s eye. Harry grins slowly and gives Louis a slight nod. Louis takes that as encouragement to squeeze a bit at Liam’s dick through his trousers, and Liam squirms, turning even more red. Louis likes it when Liam blushes. He might have already decided that before, but he can decide it again if he wants to. 

“Alright,” Harry says, sticking his hand up and waving at something Louis can’t see, and then Nicki appears next to the table. Louis freezes. “Could we get the bill, please, Nicki?”

“Sure, got it here,” Nicki says, handing it to Harry. “I would ask about dessert, but you boys seem to have plans.” Harry only glances at it before taking out his wallet , handing it back to Nicki with a couple of bills and a wide smile. She winks before walking away, and Harry watches her go, smirking a little and probably checking her out, and Louis finds that rather unacceptable on numerous levels.

“Why the bill already?” Zayn asks.

“We’re all going to go have sex,” Harry says, looking back at them.

They all stare at Harry. “What?” Harry asks. “I’ve at the very least snogged all of you, and this table has mad sexual tension, and I want to fuck. Like right now.”

“I’m in,” Louis says immediately.

Zayn and Niall glance at each other. “Our place is free,” Niall says.

Their gazes all turn to Liam. He looks, somehow, uncertain, and Louis doesn’t think that’ll do at all. So, naturally, he squeezes Liam’s dick again, and Liam closes his eyes and then opens them to say, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Niall snickers, and Louis wastes no time in standing, the rest of them all pushing to get out of the booth behind him. Zayn trips over Harry’s foot, and Harry just barely grabs him and pulls him back before he falls. 

“Watch it, stud,” Harry says. “No need to swoon over me quite yet.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, and Niall groans and swats Harry’s shoulder.

Liam sighs. “What the hell have I just agreed to?”

Harry smirks, and Louis is pretty sure the answer to Liam’s question is something along the lines of the best night of their lives. 

But no high expectations or anything, really, Louis thinks sarcastically, and smirks back at Harry.

\---

Harry is surprised and, quite frankly, a little disappointed that they manage to walk all the way to Niall and Zayn’s flat without any public displays of nudity--though not without stopping occasionally to make out against lamp posts. 

To be fair, Harry thinks, it was definitely worth the wait for this. 

Niall has situated himself on Harry’s lap in an armchair and is sucking marks into the skin of Harry’s neck. Over his shoulder, Harry can see Liam and Louis on the sofa--Louis had practically ripped Liam’s clothes off and shoved him down the minute they got in the door, obviously in a desperate attempt to get to Liam’s dick immediately. Zayn is sitting next to them, still mostly clothed with his chin hooked over Liam’s shoulder and whispering what Harry imagines must be encouragement in his ear while Louis rides Liam’s dick.

Yeah, Harry could get used to this. 

“I could get used to this,” Niall says, leaning in to kiss Harry. 

“Was just thinking that,” Harry mumbles. 

“How do you feel,” Niall asks, running a hand down Harry’s torso, “about being tied up?”

Harry’s breath catches. “Um,” he says, and Niall beams. 

“Pretty good, yeah?” Niall twists in Harry’s lap to look behind him. “Hey, Zayn-- ah.” Zayn is rather occupied with snogging Louis, Harry notes. “I was just going to ask him where he keeps his formal wear,” Niall says, getting up and grabbing Harry’s hand to pull him along. “But we can find them.”

“Uh...” Harry says, letting himself be guided away even as he cranes his head back so he can watch as Louis shudders and comes against Liam, Zayn’s hand wrapped loosely around his cock. Jesus, that’s fucking hot. 

So is the idea of being tied up, though, and he’s pretty sure the other three will follow him and Niall to the bedroom soon. 

Niall finds Zayn’s ties in a box in the closet and turns to wave them at Harry. “Clothes off,” he instructs, and Harry insists Niall get his off, too, and by the time Zayn comes into the room, it’s to find Niall and Harry pressed up against the wall by the closet, naked and making out, Niall’s hands firmly on Harry’s arse and the ties abandoned by their feet. 

“Alright then,” Louis says when he comes in, hopping onto the bed and stretching out, legs crossed in front of him. “I think someone here is wearing too many clothes.”

“I think that someone’s name is Zayn,” Liam adds, coming up behind Zayn and pantsing him just as Harry pulls away from Niall to look around. 

Louis laughs so hard Harry’s afraid he’s going to roll off the bed, and Liam looks pleased with himself. Zayn rolls his eyes and gets rid of the rest of his clothes while Niall giggles helplessly into Harry’s shoulder. “His _face,_ ” he says. 

“I know,” Harry agrees, and then, because he can’t help himself, “You were going to tie me up?”

Niall immediately stops laughing and his eyes go dark. “Right,” he says. “On the bed. Zayn, some help here?”

“What are we doing?” Liam asks from where he’s sitting with Louis on the bed, watching Harry crawl past him and flop down on the other side of the bed. 

“Tying Harry up,” Zayn says, following Harry onto the bed and waving the ties he’d picked up at Liam and Louis. Louis grabs onto one and tugs it out of his hand. 

Niall throws a leg over Harry to kneel over him, grabbing his wrists and pressing them gently together against the pillow above Harry’s head. “That good?” he asks, and Harry nods. 

Zayn hands Niall a tie and Harry can feel him loop it around his wrists, pulling them together. “Tighter,” he says before Niall can knot it off, and closes his eyes when he feels the fabric dig into his skin more, nodding so that they’ll know it’s okay. 

“Can you move your arms?” Niall asks after a minute, and when Harry tries he gets barely an inch off the pillow before he can’t go any farther. He shakes his head and opens his eyes again. 

“What are we going to do with you now?” Niall asks, smirking down at him. 

“We could do--”

“Anything you want,” Harry interrupts Zayn. His head is spinning a little already; he may possibly have never been this hard in his life. 

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees. “Anything...”

“Think Liam and I will just watch for a bit,” Louis says, and Harry turns his head so that he can see how Liam is leaning back into Louis’ chest, Louis’ hand idly rubbing at Liam’s thigh. 

“Well, that’s not very nice,” Harry says. “I think you should all be touching me because I can’t touch of any of you.” He tugs at his bindings for emphasis. 

Louis smirks. “Better touch him, then, Niall,” he says, and somehow Harry isn’t really expecting Niall to listen, to move so that he can wrap a hand around Harry’s cock, and the feeling of it catches him by surprise. “Maybe you should suck him off,” Louis suggests idly. “He’d like that, wouldn’t you, Harry?”

Harry whimpers, closes his eyes, and then forces them open again to watch Niall shimmy down even farther. He thumbs at Harry’s hip, right over the bruise Zayn had left there earlier, and Harry moans and jerks his hips upward. 

“None of that,” Louis says. “Zayn, hold him down.”

Zayn puts his hands on Harry’s hips and pushes down, then leans up to kiss him. Harry gets into it, letting Zayn lick his way into his mouth, and gasps when Niall gets his mouth on Harry’s dick. He can’t help trying to move his hips again, but Zayn’s hands push him down harder, and Harry whimpers again. There’s something amazing about totally giving up control, about giving in and having no choice about what happens--especially when he’s giving the control to people he trusts to know what they’re doing with it. 

“Yeah,” Harry can hear Louis saying encouragingly, “just like that, come on,” and Harry doesn’t know who he’s saying it to, but it doesn’t really matter, either. 

“Louis,” Liam says, his voice cracking. “Louis, either do something or stop it.”

Zayn pulls away from kissing Harry so they can both look over at Liam and Louis, except then Niall pulls off Harry’s dick and that is just not on with Harry.

“Hey,” he says at the same time as Louis, and Louis adds, “I didn’t tell any of you to stop.”

Niall immediately gets his mouth back on Harry--he seems to like following Louis’ orders, which is something Harry will file away to use later, like when he’s not getting his brain sucked out his dick. Zayn is slower to react, staring over at Liam and Louis, and when Harry goes to try to pull him back so he can kiss him, the fabric around his wrists reminds him of its presence, digging in and pulling him back. 

“Harry’s trying to get to you,” Louis says, and Zayn ignores him in favour of leaning over and kissing Liam. 

“Realised I hadn’t done that yet,” Zayn says, and then turns back to kiss Harry. 

Zayn’s stopped holding Harry’s hips, so when Niall gets particularly far down Harry’s dick, there’s nothing to stop him from jerking up and forcing Niall into deep throating him. Niall takes it well, though, which just makes it even more mind blowing than it already is, and when his throat muscles flutter around Harry when he swallows, Harry comes, moaning and biting down too hard on Zayn’s lip.

“Ow,” Zayn says, but when Harry blinks slowly up at him he’s smiling a little. Niall appears next to him, lips dark red and swollen, and Harry is just opening his mouth to tell him to kiss him when Niall does so.

“If you don’t touch my dick right now,” Liam suddenly bursts out. “I’m going to kill you.” Zayn, Harry, and Niall all look over at them. Harry tugs a little at his bindings when he tries to sit up and ends up slumping down further. 

“Think I’ve touched your dick enough today,” Louis says. “Shouldn’t it be someone else’s turn?”

“You’re horrible,” Zayn says to Louis. “Have you been working him up this entire time?”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Louis says. 

“Ugh, fuck you,” Liam says, and turns over, shoving Louis’ shoulders back and kissing him. Louis lets him, runs his hands down Liam’s back and squeezes at his arse before pushing him away. Liam pouts and flops backward, staring at the ceiling. 

“Can I be untied now?” Harry asks. “I want to, like... touching.”

“I dunno,” Niall says. “What do you think, Louis, should we untie him?”

“Yes,” Louis says decisively. “I’ll do it. You should help Liam with his problem.”

Niall does as he says, moving over to where Liam’s lying back on the bed and snogging him, getting a hand on his dick right away. Liam groans in relief and Niall is right there with him. Zayn is intent on watching them, and Harry really can’t blame him, because the way Niall is rubbing up against Liam’s thigh and leaving sloppy kisses on the side of Liam’s neck while Liam’s eyes are practically rolling back into his head is fascinating. 

“You’re a lazy arse,” Harry tells Louis, tearing his eyes away to look up at where he’s untying Harry from the headboard. “Why don’t you do something instead of just ordering everyone else around?”

“Says the admitted lazy rich kid,” Louis says, tossing the ties over the side of the bed. Harry sits up, rubbing at his wrists a little, and Louis reaches for them and thumbs over the inside of Harry’s wrists. He leans in, and Harry thinks he’s going to kiss him, but then he just pecks at his lips before leaning away again, grinning at him. 

“If you stop being a tease I can help you with that boner,” Harry says.

“You would anyway,” Louis says, but he kisses Harry properly this time and shifts into his lap so Harry can get a hand on his dick to jerk him off, the other one on the small of his back. Louis groans and lets his head drop onto Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry starts it out slow and easy, twisting his hand at the top and letting his thumb brush gently over the head of Louis’ dick, doing it again just to hear the noise Louis makes again.

“C’mon,” Louis says, trying to guide Harry’s hand with his. Harry pushes his hand away, but he does take pity on him and speed up his own. 

“Pushy,” he mutters, and Louis groans--whether at him or because of something he did, Harry’s not entirely sure. 

Harry can hear Liam and Niall moaning, and even though he can’t see them because Louis is between them, the image he conjures up in his mind of what they must be doing to sound like that combined with the way Louis is panting into his ear now is enough to make him let out a moan himself. 

He squeezes harder at the base of Louis’ dick and drags his hand up slowly, listening to Zayn say something to Liam and Niall or maybe to no one in particular about being almost there, and Louis’ orgasm catches them both by surprise. Louis gasps into Harry’s ear and then slumps forward against him, and Harry lets them both fall backward, Louis rolling off him and falling into the gap between Harry and where Zayn is lying with his head propped up by one of Niall’s legs. 

The room is silent but for the sound of heavy breathing for a good couple minutes, and then Liam says, “I could go for some food right about now.”

“Me too,” Louis says. 

“There’s cake in the fridge,” Zayn says. 

“There is?” Niall asks.

“Bought it for Liam’s birthday,” Zayn explains. 

“You bought me cake?”

“‘Course.”

“We should go eat that,” Harry says. 

“What kind of cake is it?” Louis asks. “I need to know if I want it enough to move.”

“S’marble cake,” Zayn answers. “Liam can never decide if he likes chocolate or vanilla better.”

They do eventually decide they all want cake enough to get up and clean off a bit, but none of them can be particularly bothered with putting their pants on. 

Harry stands by the fridge with his large helping of cake and pauses in eating it to look around the rest of them. Louis and Niall are leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen, giggling quietly and every so often leaning in to kiss frosting off each other’s lips. Liam and Zayn are sitting at the table, Liam waving a forkful of cake at Zayn, threatening to get it in his hair. Zayn leans away, frowning, but when Liam promises he’ll stop he comes back and lets Liam feed him the forkful of cake. 

“I want this all the time,” Harry blurts out as the thought comes into his mind. Excuse him if his filter’s a bit broken after how much sex he’s had today, honestly. 

“What, the cake?” Louis asks. “Probably not good for your figure, mate.” 

“No, idiot,” Niall says, smacking the back of Louis’ head. “He obviously means the sex.”

“Not just the sex,” Harry corrects. “All of it. Eating cake naked in the kitchen, making fun of each other at dinner, holding hands walking through the streets...”

“Aw,” Zayn says, “Harry wants us all to date.”

There’s a silence in which they all look around at each other consideringly, and then Liam surprises Harry by saying, “That might be nice.”

“I think it’d be bloody brilliant, really,” Niall says, and they all nod in agreement. 

Harry frowns. “How would that work, though? Like--”

“I think we could work it out,” Louis interrupts. “Like, after we’ve finished our cake and had more sex, because I don’t know about you guys, but I’m having a lot of feelings about how great this could be.”

“I’m having a lot of feelings about this cake,” Niall says.

Zayn groans. “Don’t deflect, Niall.”

Niall grins. “Fine, I also have a lot of mushy feelings about holding hands and declaring eternal polyamorous love. And about how much I want to kiss all of you, like, all the time.”

“Okay,” Harry says, “that’s enough of that. We’re all going back to bed.”

“Agreed,” Liam says, pushing his chair back and making a beeline for the bedroom. 

“My cake?” Niall asks mournfully, but he’s already putting it down and following Liam. 

Zayn is the last out of the kitchen before Harry, and he pauses a moment. “Glad you said something, man. I think we were all thinking it.”

Harry beams. “Yeah, well, good job all four of you broke my brain-to-mouth filter today.”

Zayn laughs. “Let’s see what other nonsense we can get you to spit out, yeah?”

“I consider it a challenge I set to you all,” Harry says. Zayn smirks and jerks his head to indicate that Harry should get a move on and follow him to the bedroom. 

Yeah, Harry thinks as he obeys, it might not have been what he imagined when he rolled out of bed this morning, but it’s been a pretty good day overall.


End file.
